


Tender Loving Care

by Fiercest



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Major Illness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: Hanahaki Disease is an illness wherein the sufferer is in unrequited love. The flower of that love lives in their lungs and grows by the year. The flower is a parasite. Eventually, it will take too much, grow too big and kill the host. The only cure is for the object of their love to return their affection.





	Tender Loving Care

 

While everyone else watches the preliminary matches, Sakura sits against the wall, with her knees pulled to her chest. She tugs at her short hair; a nervous new habit, quickly forming. Her anxiety over her missing teammate mounts to physically painful levels.

Kakashi-sensei took him aside almost as soon as they reached the tower and she hasn't seen Sasuke-kun since. She wonders about the weird bruise on his neck and her stomach churns at the thought of the awful snake person who'd bit him. With another lurch, her stomach rebels. She expects the sour taste of bile on her tongue, but instead, she gags and coughs.

Her palm comes away clean. A soft, pink petal flutters from her lips, into her lap.

Sakura pinches it between her thumb and forefinger and looks around, searching for someone who witnessed what just happened, but no one did.

.

.

Sakura doesn't know that there's something wrong until she's already too sick. There's no going back now, and if she were honest with herself, she'd known that there'd be little hope for her.

This morning, she woke up on a cold bench. This afternoon, she begged Naruto to bring their wayward missing piece home. At twilight she broke her hand on a nearby wall; she was so frustrated with herself for being weak.

At dusk, her parents rushed her to the hospital because she wasn't breathing.

.

.

Tsunade-sama sits at her bedside, eyeing her critically. She reclines in the shitty plastic chair like it's a throne. Her cheek rests against a closed fist. She seems bored, like she's trying to figure out if Sakura is worth her time.

Sakura could save her the trouble, she wants to. So she tells her the truth. "I'm not worth your time."

Except that Tsunade seems to disagree.

"I don't take an interest in just anyone."

Sakura thinks of the hours that the Hokage has given her, answering her questions, tempering her untrained hands. What a waste, if all she's going to do is die.

"You're not going to die," Tsunade promises. "I won't let you." She stands and lays a hand on her shoulder. Sakura pulls the sheets up to her chin, like she can hide her weakness. "A heart like yours is a curse, but it will make you strong."

And bless her, Sakura decides to believe her.

.

.

Unrequited love is a sickness. It's the rot in Sakura's bones, the decay in her heart. It's a flower blooming from her lungs and it  _will kill her_.

Literally.

Hanahaki Disease is an illness wherein the sufferer is in unrequited love. The flower of that love lives in their lungs and grows by the year. The flower is a parasite. Eventually it will take too much, grow too big and kill the host. The only cure is for the object of their love to return their affection.

But there are treatments.

The flower can be surgically removed, destroying all love and the memories of its object.

Or if the object dies, then the sufferer is freed.

Even on her worst day, Sakura doesn't wish for it even once.

She asks Tsunade how much time she has, she promises her a handful of years. She'll put off the surgery for now.

Despite everything, Sakura isn't ready to give up. She still believes that they can bring him home. She harbours no hopes that when that happens ( _if it happens_ , a treacherous voice, suspiciously familiar, whispers) he'll love her back. She knows it's closer to the realm of impossible.

( _Annoying_ , that same voice in her head hisses).

If she forgets, how will she know what she's fighting for?

.

.

Sakura learns to live as she is, with a little bit of pruning. It's the most she'll allow. There is a scar over her heart many times over, where Tsunade has removed bloody roots and stems from her chest cavity. With each procedure, she loses pieces of herself. Her genin days grow blurry, many good memories go.

She fears that soon all she'll have left are the bad times.

.

.

She's really going to do it. Sakura's leather gloves creak around her kunai as she clenches her fist tight. Her eyes are on his back. She has suffered for so long that she hardly remembers what being able to breathe properly feels like.

Sakura loves Sasuke. The sky is blue, chakra circulates through her body, the earth is round. Sakura loves Sasuke.

The immutable truth is horrendous, but she cannot help herself any more than she can change the makeup of the world. She loves him so dearly that she will end his life. It's the only gift she can give him, that he could receive.

So, she's ready. Whatever comes next, she'll know she's done what's right.

Right as the knife is about to be plunged between his shoulder blades, Sakura freezes. A tremor rocks her body and her heart and lungs seize. In the span of a second, Sakura's cough is choked off by Sasuke's hand around her throat. She claws at his hand, not ready to give up yet, not wanting him to see-

As he raises his other hand to drive a Chidori through her heart, she coughs again. The petals fall from her mouth and land on his fist. Blood mingles with them and drips from the side of her lips.

There's confusion in his eyes and a mounting fury. He doesn't understand. "What kind of trick is this?!"

Kakashi arrives just in time to spare her many things; her life being the least of them.

.

.

Later, when Sasuke is calmer—not quite in his right mind, but getting there—he asks Karin about it.

"Have you ever heard of someone coughing up flower petals?" She's the closest thing to a medic he has on hand and has seen many things. He wonders if it was an attack or a healing mechanism. The curiosity is a burning pit in his stomach.

"Did they…eat the flower petals?"

"I would imagine no."

"Then no."

But still, he wonders.

.

.

Sakura is not long for this world. She has a hardly any years left.

She doesn't fear death anymore, this heartache has been her constant companion all these many years. If it were to leave, she might even feel bereft; empty of growing things.

Sometimes she thinks about what the end will be like, she wonders if she will change her mind-if her resolve will weaken. When faced with her dying breaths, would she rather cut her love out of her? She hopes not. But maybe that's another symptom.

Looking at Sasuke, back home, on Naruto's other side, Sakura doesn't mind the fever.

He'll be leaving soon. She should enjoy her love, while it's here.

.

.

When Sasuke pokes her forehead, he believes he's giving her cause to hope.

But Sakura has been sick for almost five years now and has scarcely considered the possibility of reciprocation in all that time. It's an impossibility so beyond the scope of her imagination. Sasuke will never love her and  _she doesn't mind._  She does not love him so her feelings will be requited. Her love simply  _is._

A paltry flower in her chest is weaker than the sturdy oak that has grown in her soul. She loves him so much, unselfishly—hopelessly and  _without_  hope.

She knows no other way.

Will she be here when he returns? She doesn't know.

She'll never tell him. Whether it's because she doesn't want him to stay out of guilt, or if it's because she's afraid that even knowing, he won't.

She misses him already, while at the same time, this time with him has been enough. She's so proud of him; he's doing what he must to make the world better and to find himself among it. It's everything she's wanted for him since they were very small.

She coughs and the petals are bloody.

It won't be long now.

.

.

Sasuke does not know what awaits him at home. A thousand nights he's travelled alone, one more won't make much difference. When he left, he was looking for redemption. He does not know if he found it, but what he realized was this:

Redemption can only be found where he caused the most pain. His destination can only be at the source of his joy and misery. Konoha has many graves for him to visit.

And many tables, at which to eat and ask forgiveness.

One night won't make a difference, but he's absurdly anxious. He needs to go,  _right now_. His heart flutters and his breaths come short. He isn't tired, he's  _excited._

For the first time in a long time, Sasuke feels like he knows exactly where he's headed. He has a vision for how his life is going to turn out—a hope. Soon, he'll be back with Naruto, Sakura and Kakashi. They'll be together like it used to be. He'll see his family again. He'll fix his ancestral home. He'll rebuild their honour and reputation. He'll tell Sakura how he feels. She's waited so long, he doesn't want her to wait another minute.

She must know. She has to, after their last parting at the village gates.

Sasuke pictures the life they'll have together. The early mornings when he'll wake up to her smile, the quiet evenings when they'll read and eat together. They'll learn each other's habits. They'll hold each other when the dark days come. They'll start anew. They'll get to be happy.

Sakura.

_I'll be home soon._

_._

_._

Naruto chews on his lip and contemplates the letter. How much can he say in a note? This is news he'd prefer to give in person, but he can't bear to leave the village right now. He needs to communicate the urgency, with no information. He's bad at this. This is the kind of thing Sakura is better at.

He knows that Sasuke and Sakura have been exchanging letters for the past couple years. He can always tell when she's gotten one, because she has a healthy glow about her—like his words heal her.

Sometimes he's mad at him. Doesn't he know how lucky he is? But that's not fair, is it? Nothing about this is fair.

Naruto doesn't know how this is going to turn out. For once, he's finding it hard to hold out hope. Sakura's been sick for so long now, and she's only gotten worse. Having Sasuke back didn't help any.

And when she's gone, though the thought alone destroys him, how will he react? He's already got a major guilt complex. He's gotta hide the truth from him. It's the only answer. If Sasuke knows that he's responsible-

"Naruto."

He almost jumps out of his skin.

Sasuke stands by the entrance to Naruto's kitchen. He didn't even hear him come in. He looks shaken.

"H-hey Sasuke, what's up?"

He hesitates for a moment, swallows and looks around, as if searching for the question. "I came from Sakura's apartment."

Naruto blanches.

Sakura had known what was coming. She knew her time was short.

_"I don't want you or Ino or my parents to have to pack everything up," she said while placing a stack of books in a cardboard box. "I'm just gonna get everything settled so it's easy."_

_"Sakura-chan, you shouldn't be worrying about this," he replied, "Don't waste your energy-"_

_"Keep anything you like. I've got some pictures that you might want, they're in that box. There's a box for Kakashi-sensei, Tsunade-shisou, Ino and Sas-" she swallowed here, "Sasuke-kun too."_

_He looked into his box, taped to the top was a white envelope. There was one on all of the labelled boxes. "Did you…write us goodbye letters?"_

_There were tears in her eyes and a smile on her face, "Of course."_

"It's empty," says Sasuke, "There's dust covers on all the furniture. Her books are gone." He sees the panic winding up. "What-" he clears his throat, not unlike when Sakura said his name, "What happened?"

"She's… at the hospital."

Sasuke sags in relief and it breaks Naruto's heart.

"No, I uh, I mean… She's in the hospital. Sakura's sick."

"Sakura's sick? How can she be sick?"

"She just  _is_  Sasuke, I don't-"

"What's wrong with her?"

And even though Naruto had decided that he wasn't going to tell him, he can't bring himself to lie to Sasuke tonight.

.

.

"Please," Tsunade's tone is demanding, but her words are a plea, "Tell her you want her to cut it out."

"I can't-"

"You  _can_."

"No one can make Sakura do anything, you should know that better than anyone."

" _You can."_  Naruto says quietly. Quieter than he's ever said anything. "She'll listen to you about this. She's refusing treatment, do you get that?"

"But  _why?_ "

"Because she doesn't want to forget you," he explains, "If she cuts it out, she'll lose us. Our team. There will be an empty spot in her heart where you used to be."

He feels sick, so sick. Why is this happening?

"Can I… let me see her." The plea turns into a demand, in his fear.

Tsunade nods to Shizune, who leads him down a long hallway to her room.

For the first time in a year, Sasuke sees her. She's propped up against a pile of pillows, drowsy but awake. Her hair has gone limp and there are bags under her eyes. Her cheeks are hollow, like life itself is being sucked from her.

He looks at her and comes alive and he wonders, why isn't that enough? He's had a long time to think while he's wandered. There are many empty hours to fill with contemplation and the conclusion he worried over was this: what if he isn't capable of love?

Because if this thing he feels for her, this all-consuming something that pulls him in her direction, all the way from across the world… if that isn't love, then what is? What selfish breed of feeling is this if not that? Is it just another disguise that hatred and jealousy wear?

He thinks about her all the time, he wonders how she's doing and if she's safe. He longs to listen to her talk and bask in her smile. He has come to realize that he belongs by her side and nowhere else. And he cannot save her.

"Am I too late?" he asks, not of her in particular, but of the world.

"You're just in time," she responds anyway. "Come sit with me."

There's a plastic chair beside her, but he sits on her bed instead. He gets as close as he can and she makes room for him. There's so much he wishes to express, but has no words with which to do so. What could be enough to change this?

Sasuke has learned that his whole heart is not enough. It's something he's always known, but it's a difficult fact to stare in the face.

He thought he loved her, but maybe he was just a fool.

Sakura very carefully arranges herself so they're hardly touching and no weight falls against him. This won't do at all. He reaches his stump behind her, guides her to lean into his chest and takes her hand in his. They've never been so close before, not since they were children. They'll never get the chance again, no matter if he succeeds or fails.

"Sakura, you need to let them save you."

Very calmly, "No."

"Sakura…"

"I can't do it. I'm not strong enough."

They're quiet for a moment.

"You're the strongest person I know."

She smiles to herself, "I know that's not true."

"Please," begs a man unaccustomed to begging. "Do this for me."

This gives her pause, she tenses against him. He presses his advantage.

"I can't fix this. I wish I could. I would do anything to fix this."

"Sasuke-kun," she looks at him through tears and wonder in her eyes, "There isn't anything you could have done. You can't force yourself to feel what you don't. I don't  _blame_  you."

"That's just it," he confesses, letting his forehead bow into hers, "I'm sorry it wasn't enough, that I'm not enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry that the way I love you is so twisted. I'm sorry that you love a man as broken as me."

Sakura gasps, but not in surprise. It's like a deep breath after being underwater for a long time. In an instant she is whole.

"You-you love me?"

There are tears in his eyes and there's no more compelling proof than that. "I do," and again he says, "I'm so sorry it's not enough."

Sakura sighs in content and turns. She stares into his eyes and lifts a hand to his cheek. "Sasuke-kun. It's everything."

With all the strength that's returning, she rises like a tide and captures his lips. Her arms wind around his neck and he rolls over her, careful to keep the weight off. She cannot tell if the wellness she feels is the healing of her body or her heart. She does not know what will happen. Is she still sick? All she knows, is that she does not feel like dying today. Their kiss is broken by his trembling.

Her head falls back against the pillow, and now that she can see him, it shocks her. He's crying. "I love you," he tells her, because he doesn't think he'll get another chance. It's sweet and it's heartbreaking, but she can't have that. It must be so hard for him to say it.

"I love you too," she replies and kisses him again and again and again. She peppers his face and holds him tight.

If he's surprised at the strength in her arms, he doesn't show it. When she opens her eyes again, she realizes that his Sharingan is activated. She laughs, it's still rough, like she has a cold. "What are you doing?"

"I want to remember." And his magic eyes will make sure he can't forget a single detail.

"See that you do," she says, very seriously.

He exhales loudly through his nose, his expression flat. It's the way he looks at Naruto when he's said something stupid. "Are you seriously making fun of me?"

"That was just so romantic, I couldn't help it."

"Me being romantic is funny."

"Yes," she laughs, feeling free.

"Fine, I won't do it again."

"Noooo!" she moans in mock disappointment. "Don't doom me to a life without your expert flirting!"

This sobers him immediately. He wonders how long that life will really be.

She notices and chews her lip, searching for a way to say what needs to be said. "We have a few more decades to work on your technique. It takes practice, just like everything else."

He meets her gaze, his eyes wide open. "What?"

"I… I think you-" her pallor changes.

Sakura stumbles out of bed and falls to her knees, choking.

"Sakura!"

She vaguely registers Sasuke's hand on her back as she coughs. She feels a mass rise in her throat. She heaves and expels a bloody mess onto the floor. She stares at it, this thing that has been her constant tormentor for seven years. Its pink petals are brown at the tips, its roots are ugly and jagged. They've grown thorns.

"That…that-!" she clutches her throat and her hand flickers green. She soothes the burning there.

"WE NEED A DOCTOR!"

She laughs at the panic that ensues. The nurses rush in. A swarm of people shove through her door; Tsunade, Shizune and Naruto, not far behind. They do a thorough examination. Tsunade listens to her breaths as a nurse takes a blood sample. All the while, Sasuke doesn't move from her side. They've locked eyes now and can't seem to look away.

In the end, Tsunade shoos everyone out of the room. Sasuke reluctantly stands to go, but Sakura grabs his hand and holds him back. "Stay, please." He squeezes her hand.

Tsunade rolls her eyes but relents. "I'm astounded. You're fine."

"I'm fine?"

"Your lungs are clear. Your BP has normalized. Your chakra reserves are rebuilding-"

"It drained my chakra," Sakura interrupts to explain to Sasuke.

"-It's a miraculous recovery."

Sakura beams at her mentor even as her eyes fill with tears again. "So I'm going to be okay? Really?"

She takes her hand, "Yes."

Sakura can't help it, the tears turn to full-on sobs. She covers her face with her hands and falls apart. For so long, she thought her days were numbered. For so long, she's lived like she was going to die young. She made no plans for a future that would not come.

What does she do with a hopeless love that is suddenly requited?

Sasuke looks between Sakura and Tsunade, panicked. Tsunade doesn't seem perturbed which makes him feel a little better.

"Sakura, didn't you hear her? You're fine." Women are baffling.

"I know," she says, choked. "These are happy tears."

"I'll go," Tsunade pats her apprentices head and leaves them to it.

As soon as the door closes behind her, Sakura throws herself into Sasuke's arms and crushes her lips against his. They tumblr off the hospital bed together. Her hand on the back of his head keeps him from cracking it against the linoleum. For a moment he savors this; the woman he loves, alive and healthy in his arms. On the floor of a hospital room. They laugh breathlessly into their kiss.

"How is this possible?" Sasuke asks. Off her withering look, "Not that I'm not grateful… I've loved you for a while, why did you still get sick?"

Sakura lays her chin on his chest and lifts a shoulder. "I didn't know."

"How could you not know?"

"Hey!  _You_  never told me."

He clears his throat, but doesn't respond.

"Knowing fixed it. Knowing you love me, healed me," a big, shit-eating grin takes over her face. She pokes his cheek. "And you do. You loooove me."

"Yes. We've established that."

The poking doesn't cease, "You're so sweet."

"Stop."

"The sweetest."

"Sakura."

"Don't worry, I love you too."

"Do you? You hid it so well."

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

"But you loooove me anyway," he mocks. It startles her. She doesn't think Sasuke's ever teased her before. She hopes he'll do it again.

"I do."

Loving is not enough to sustain a soul. Being loved is almost enough. Knowing one is loved, keeps a soul alive.


End file.
